


Anea: Will to Live

by UncertainAngel



Category: Naruto
Genre: Aburame Clan, F/M, Family, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of background character death, Mentions of Suicide, OC thrown into Naruto world for no explainable reason, Original Aburame Clanspeople, Original Female Character - Freeform, Original Male Character (Shino's son), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Suggestion of past torture, me pretending to know stuff that I don't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 01:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14391078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncertainAngel/pseuds/UncertainAngel
Summary: She didn't know what happened. She didn't expect to wake up. One moment her cover was blown as an American spy and falling from a skyscaper in Japan after being shot in the back, the next she was waking in a world of ninja and magic.Released from Konoha's hospital with no option but to be a civilian, Anea struggles to find purpose to her life. Will she find healing in her neighbours, the Aburame clan? Or will she give into the despair of a soldier forced into retirement?Drabble format.





	Anea: Will to Live

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!  
> So, this is a rough draft of a story I'm playing with. It is incomplete at the moment and unedited. I'm throwing this out here to see what you guys think of the idea and get some feed back.  
> Let me know what you think.  
> How much detail would you like to see in developing the Aburame clan? what are some questions you have about them but never really had answers for?  
> I want to try out fleshing out the clan I know next to nothing about, but have little idea of how to go about it.  
> So, suggestions?
> 
>  
> 
> Also, some background for the story to make sense-ish.
> 
> Anea appeared in the Naruto world after the Fourth War in Iwa. Iwa has some rogues holding on to the old beliefs that Iwa is greatest. Anea is taken by these rogues and tortured.
> 
> A Konoha ANBU allowed herself to be captures as part of her mission and ends up taking Anea with her when the mission is over.
> 
> Chakra does not effect Anea as she has no chakra networks, however: because of the void her body obsorbs any form of chakra used on her. Hence shinobi's inability to use healing chakra on her.
> 
> She was a spy/saboteur for America and was recruited right out of highschool (just go with it). She is also roughly twenty seven or so, haven't decided but she's Shino's age.
> 
> That's the gist of it. More details will come when I actually write the real story.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

_You need to get up, Anea._ The thought scrolled through her mind and stared down from her ceiling. Dawn was long passed and creeping toward noon.

_You need to get up, Anea._ the meaningless mantra repeated tonelessly.

Lethargy weighed her arms and legs to the futon, her eyes fixed listlessly on the words painted on her ceiling.

_What’s the point? There’s no reason to get up._ The thought was faint but added a ton to the weight sitting on her chest.

There wasn’t a reason to get up. There was no mission to run. No report to make. Training would be pointless. What use was training when the skills wouldn’t ever be utilized?

Her life was gone. Had been since she woke from falling from the skyscraper in Japan.

_Need to get up, Anea._

Buying the property she was on was supposed to give her something to do but any motivation she had had when she laid the money down, was long gone.

It all seemed too much. Everything she had accomplished—gone. Her identity did not exist here. She was nothing.

_Get up, Anea._

_Up, Anea._

_Anea…_

* * *

 

“Who are you?”

Anea blinked lazily at the kid, vaguely aware she should be surprised by...something... she couldn’t bring herself to care.

The kid wore a high collared trench coat, light but durable, dark sunglasses, impossible to see eyes, and thick black hair.

“Well?”

Right, she hadn’t answered yet.

“Anea.”

She turned her eyes back to the task before her. Skin the rabbits and make stew. The skins needed to be cured too.

A sound not unlike a bee trapped in a window tickled her ears but she dismissed it in favor of setting her knife down and peeling the skin from the rabbit. It came like a glove form a hand.

“Yuck.”

Grey eyes flickered to the kid, something warm puffed in her chest at the curious intensity on the child’s face.

She couldn’t see his eyes but she didn’t doubt they were fixed on the muscle and sinew that was bare to the world now the hide was gone.

“You supposed to be here kid?” she finally asked, taking twine and binding the rabbit’s hind legs so she could hang it while she worked on the other.

Getting up earlier that morning had been unusually easy. Her eyes had opened, read the order on the ceiling, and—for the first time in two days—her body had listened. She didn’t feel much but at least she was moving.

“I think I should be asking that. Why? Because this is my hideout.”

The warm puff spread up her throat and tugged her lips into a vague reflection of a smile.

“I bought the shack and five acres last week, kid,” she informed the child as she tied the rabbit to the wall behind her.

“My father said no one would live here.”

A shoulder rose and fell, body odor registering in Anea’s senses for the first time--she would bathe later. “Bought it from Wazashi Toshiro near the bank.” Kid could go check with the realtor if he didn’t believe her.

Silence fell and Anea let it stay. The kid watched quietly as she finished the second rabbit and moved on to starting a fire. She should have started it earlier to get a good bed of coals down but she could wait. She needed to stuff the rabbits with herbs and get the pot she had bought—before she went comatose—ready.

Cooking wasn’t her specialty but it was usually palatable. What she knew, she had learned from wilderness survival training and home ecc. While she did all that the kid took a seat on a stump. The tree had fallen long ago—thankfully not on the shack—and she had used it to make her current fire and the large pile of wood now stacked a ways from her shelter.

Anea added a mental note to sharpen the axe later.

It wasn’t until she had seared the rabbits and put them in the pot that she addressed the boy.

“You are more than welcome to keep coming her kid. I only ask you don’t come after dark or before the sun rises.”

The kid’s face was obscured by both the glasses and the high collar but when Anea faced him, she got the impression he was surprised. It was pretty amusing.

Taking up the two skins, the woman laid them furside down on a rock then set about improvising a way to stretch them out securely and scrape the fat and meat from the hide. She would need to find salt to cure them with. Another thing to do after she bathed.

* * *

 

The days rolled by and Anea slowly gathered her frayed sanity.

Weeds, brush, and unwanted trees were cleared from around the shack with the exception of an old apple tree. More rabbits, squirrel, and fox furs joined the first furs for tanning.

The shack’s roof was patched and its interior swept. As the property was repaired, so was its owners’ mind.

Work alone wasn’t the reason for the woman’s steady climb from hell. The child—Aburame Shiba—was a major factor as well. The bou was quiet, more apt to listen than talk, which suited the world weary woman just fine.

After the kid showed up for the third day in a row, she began telling him what she was doing and why, allowing him to help if he wanted. She taught him how to skin small fame, how to preserve their pelts and how to cook them.

She talked about fixing her shack and how she had never done something like it before but she was taking ruthless advantage of the library.

She showed him her snares when he asked how she hunted--then showed him how to set snares and how to tell where the best places for snares were.

She showed him how to use an axe to cut firewood efficiently. When they sat down to eat she answered whatever questions he asked.

The first time he had asked where she was from she had to work to get the words passed her tight throat.

“Some place I can never reach. It still hurts, Shiba-kun, please don’t ask again.”

And he hadn’t but he tested what he could and couldn’t ask.

The boy learned she had not family. Her father was the last of her family to die when she was fifteen. He learned she would not speak of what she did before he met her nor how she came to Konoha.

Anea learned he was an only child to a father who was important in his clan. She learned he loved all kinds of insects and enjoyed people watching. She learned how most people were uncomfortable around his clan because of their kichiki.

She had read an overview of the shinobi clans of Konoha in the Introduction to Shinobi for Civilians someone had left her when she had been in the hospital but didn’t recall much. Those days had been spent sleeping, doing therapy, and trying to avoid thinking.

Talking to Shiba reminded her that she knew next to nothing about this world and she had debts she needed to pay.

According to Nara Shikamaru, she had five years to pay back the money she had been fronted to get her on her feet; money—that had been intended to support her for a year—she had spent in its entirety to buy her current home and the few essentials she had.

Calluses scraped her cheeks as Anea drug a hand down her face and around to the back of her neck. So much needed to be done

She had food, water, and shelter and could have happily spent the rest of her days in the confines of her bountiful five acres; but her debts wouldn’t allow that.

Huffing, the woman dropped her hands from the nape of her neck and took up a bit of charcoal she was using to write down a list of things she needed to do.

Information—she needed a basic understanding of recent history and shinobi.

Clothes—pants and tee-shirts were not conductive to blending with an eastern culture.

Work—preferably part time. She was not stable enough to handle extended interaction with people just yet. Dealing with Shiba was hard enough.

Debt—figure out who she need to pay and how to get money to them.

Setting the charcoal down, ANea let out a shaky breath. She could do this.

* * *

 

And so Anea’s routine changed. Mornings were spent in the library reading news papers and civilian friendly guides to shinobi. Noon was dedicated to wandering the shops and people watching. Afternoons were spent with Shiba on her property doing one project or another.

During her people watching time she noticed children shinobi doing odd jobs, which led her to the discover of D-rank missions.

An inquiry, a brief meet with Nara Shikamaru and another Nara, and a visit to her bank secured Anea three D-rank missions a week until her debts were paid. She would only receive five percent of what the mission was worth—the rest would go toward her debts.

The missions were little more than chores of errands civilians didn’t want to do themselves but they suited Anea’s needs. What little money she made was invested into her property.

Getting the shack properly insulated was the first thing she did. Winter was not far off.

Building a smokehouse and digging a cellar were next. Shiba was a big help with digging the cellar, he worked on it on the days Anea had her missions.

Before Anea knew it three months had passed since the boy had appeared in her life. Her shack was no longer drafty and currently sheltered the two of them from an unexpected rain shower.

The boy was working on his homework while she sewed a pair of deer skin moccasins together. Leather work was something she and her father had done together before he passed away. During a random visit to an odds and ends shop she had found a whole collection of leather tools. She hadn’t hesitated to drop her meger saving into buying them.

Adjusting her hold of the needle, Anea turned her attention back to Shiba. The young Aburame was a good companion and helped her in ways he was ignorant of. Having him around kept her mind occupied, and knowing he would visit strengthened her will again suicide.

A small smile pulled at the scars on her jaw as the hum of Shiba’s hive increased an octave as he aggressively erased something in his notebook.

“Do you need help, Shiba-kun?”

The offer seemed pathetic in light of everything he had done for her, but helping with homework was something she could do.

* * *

 

Shiba blinked and turned away from his tactical theory homework to look at the scarred civilian he had befriended. It was not often that Anea-san spoke while he studied and when she did it was to offer him food, drink, or to remind him of the time.

“Please.”

It would be interesting to see how a civilian reacted to shinobi homework. Shiba knew Anea was aware he was going to the Academy but there was a difference between knowing something and having the knowledge proven.

Unsurprisingly, Anea appeared unperturbed by the ambush scenario presented in his homework. He was supposed to offer at least one way to react to the scenario with minimal loss of life using only the skills learned in the Academy.

Before long Shiba’s mind was hard at work as his friend read the scenario and began asking questions.

What was in his inventory? What jutsu’s did he know? How could they be used in this situation?

Forty minutes later he had three different plans of action to offer his sensei.

“Thank you Anea-san,” Shiba said, relief causing his hive to hum happily. They didn’t like it when he stressed over homework.

Something warm and rough settled on his head. It took Shiba a moment to realize Anea-san was ruffling his hair. Behind his glasses he stared at her with surprise. No one outside his clan ever touched him so casually, and even then such contact was rare.

A soft chuckle accompanied a second hair ruffle then Anea-san withdrew her hand with a smirk. “That was all you, kid. I merely gave you direction.”

Something warmed in Shiba’s chest at the praise. Anea was gree with her encouragements but praise, especially direct praise, was rare.

With a final smile the woman returned to working on the strange shoe she was making.

Later that week Shiba proudly showed Anea his report card. For the first time in a year he was in the top ten of his class academically.

* * *

 

Fall gave way to winter and Anea continued to allow herself to become more involved in the boys life. At times she wondered at the amount of time he spent wither her, but, beyond ensuring Shiba let his father know where he was, she didn’t feel the need to ask.

Winter was cold and wet but Anea endured it in order to keep up with her missions and for Shiba’s sake. Many mornings, knowing the boy would be coming was the only thing that got her out of bed

Nightmares often deprived her of sleep yet rarely drove her from the bed.

Between missions, cutting firewood, and hunting, Anea diligently worked on her leather crafts. Purses, moccasins, aprons, and small toys filled one corner of her shack, ready to be sold in the spring.

Konoha had a flea market kind of thing every month, except during winter, that she planned on attending in hopes of making some extra money to hasten paying off her debts.

The people at the mission’s desk were beginning to accept her presence without suspicion. Some were even starting to greet her. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that yet.

On one hand, having more people to talk to would go a long way to help ground her; on the other it would force her to face things she didn’t feel ready to deal with.

Winter gave way to spring and before she knew it she was setting up her booth at the flea market. The market lasted a week and it was hell.

It took everything she had not to succumb to panic attacks and hide her paranoia from those who approached her. She fooled the civilians but more than one shinobi had gazed upon her with expressions ranging from concern to wariness. Fortunately they did not call her out.

Her sleep suffered and she had to ask Shiba to stop visiting her for a while. With her nerves stretched so thin she could not guarantee that she would not be able to hold herself together in his presence. She did not want to risk hurting him.

The only thing that made her decide to continue to go to the flea market in the following months was the money she made.

* * *

 

“Anea-san?”

Anea tipped her head toward her young friend, curious about the hesitancy lingering in the inquiry. “Yes, Shiba-kun?”

The gentle creak of wood and whisper of sliding fabric spoke of anxious shifting. Whatever was on the boy’s mind had him and his hive agitated.

“My birthday is next month,” Shiba began slowly, “And my clan is throwing a party. I’d like you to come, please.”

Anea blinked down at the spreadsheet before her, a soft smile coming to her lips as warmth filled her. Turning her gaze to the young boy she allowed her smile to widen. “I’d be honored, Shiba-kun. When, and what time?”

Anea’s smile turned into a soft laugh when the child’s body impacted hers in a fierce hug fully of relief and joy.

Even after so many months of knowing each other, the boy was always surprised when she agreed with any of his requests. For a while it concerned her, but after listening and watching him it didn’t take her long to conclude that this behaviour was not caused by his family, but rather continual rejection from people who weren’t Aburame by blood.

“July 12 at the Compound at five.”

Well...that would be interesting. Anea mentally grimaced. Her tolerance for social interactions had increased since she started doing D-ranks but was still susceptible to panic attacks and flashbacks. She survived going to the flea market but was a mess for days after. The money she made almost made it worth it. People loved the uniqueness of her wares and she had more than one leather craftsman stop to talk shop.

The expression on the bankers’ face when she deposited the money was enough to make Anea decide a couple days of backlash was a small price to pay.

Dropping a kiss on Shiba’s hair, she gave him a gentle squeeze. The boy was aware of her trouble with crowds—but not why, never why—and would not have asked unless he trusted her enough not to hurt him by backing out after already agreeing.

Looks like she was going to a party.

“I don’t have anything formal, Shiba-kun. Will it embarrass you if I show up in something homemade?” she asked, glancing thoughtfully at her spreadsheets. She _might_ be able to cut some corners to buy a second hand dress or something.

“I’ll be happy knowing you are there,” he said simply, gazing curiously at the numbers Anea had written.

Huffing a laugh, Anea lifted the boy into her lap and began explaining the purpose of a budget. She would never tire of teaching this boy.

* * *

 

Aburame Shino watched his son with growing sadness. Early last month, Shiba had gained his permission to invite a friend from outside the clan to his party. It had been with reluctance that he had said yet; knowing that it was unlikely any child would be permitted to accept.

Shino had silently raged when Shiba excitedly told him that his friend had agreed to come to the party, wondering who would be so cruel as to lie to his child. It was with sorrow that he acknowledged that this was a reality Shiba needed to experience like any other child of the Aburame clan. The abandonment would either break the boy or jade him.

Deep down, Shino hoped that this mystery friend would be true. Shino had seen a happy change in his son in the past nine months. The boy’s grades had improved, he was much more devoted to his clan training, and was calmer.

Since Shiba’s mother had...died, he had become worryingly bitter and unmotivated to the point Shino had been on the verge of asking for Yamanaka assistance.

Shino had been helpless in the face of his son’s grief and barely keeping himself together.

He was still hurting and was a little jealous—but mostly relieved—of his son’s improved demeanor.

Shino’s mouth tightened and hist eyes hardened as he watched his child’s anxious fidgeting—he would ruin whoever destroyed his son’s progress.

All at once Shiba stilled and faced the compound gates, drawing Shino from his dark thoughts and making him aware of what the centuries were telling him. There was someone at the gate.

“She’s here!”

Shino blinked after his son’s form as it darted to the gate, thoroughly bemused by his heir’s unusual display of emotion and energy but followed sedately.

The person was not what Shino was expecting when Shiba asked to invite a friend. He had expected a child...not the new leather craftswoman several of his clansmen bought from last market day. They had appreciated her unique footwear for its gentleness to the ground when worn. For whatever reason, the ‘moccasins’ left hardly a mark upon the ground, where traditional footwear tore at the earth if one wasn’t careful.

All this raced through the Clan head’s mind and stalled when his son threw himself at the woman.

To his growing surprise, the woman caught Shiba up without hesitation and twirled once—her satchel lifting from her side from inertia—before settling for a gentle hug and smiling softly down at him.

Something about the way they stood together caused a stone to settle in his chest. There should not be so much familiarity between his son and an unknown civilian.

‘ _Not a civilian,’_ Shino correct, noting the wary alertness in the way she stood to keep her blind spots to a minimum.

Temporarily pushing his unease to the back of his mind, the Aburame continued on to join the two. He could not recall a time someone outside the clan had touched one of his people as easily as this stranger was touching his son.

The woman’s left arm was draped lightly over Shiba’s shoulders. It was disconcerting. Not even Hinata had ever been that comfortable in touching Shino.

“...owes me training.”

Shino missed most of what was said due to analysing the woman, but from the smug tone he could only assume Shiba had won a bet.

The woman quirked a smile—eyes flickering to his in acknowledgement and back to Shiba—that pulled at scars that were easily seen along her jaw and continued beneath her collar. “Your advantage of knowing me was hardly fair, Shiba-kun.”

Shino’s hive shared his amusement when Shiba finally took notice of him. The boy positively blared sheepish guilt.

Outwardly he was careful to remain blank so he was understably surprised when the woman offered him an amused glance. Could she read them?

“Ano, ah,” Shiba flushed beneath the amusement of the two adults.

Shino felt a brow lift when his son steadied when the woman moved her arm from his shoulders so she could rest her hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

“Father, this is Okami Anea—Anea-chan, this is my father, Aburame Shino, Aburame Clan head.”

The now named woman seemed surprised but bowed, to which Shino acknowledged with a respectful nod. “Welcome to our Compound, Okami-san, we hope you stay is pleasant.” _‘And not filled with drama,’_ he added mentally. He could all but feel his clans’ curiosity.

“Thank you Aburame-sama. I hope my presence wasn’t too much of a shock,” Anea replied, warmly ruffling Shiba’s hair.

Shino allowed a small smile at the blush dusting his son’s cheeks at the woman’s gentle teasing. It was interesting that she read the mood so easily.

“It was greater than expected.” Seein as he hadn’t expected anyone to show at all, least of all her, the statement was putting it mildly.

The woman seemed to pause, as if listening again to his words, then looked down at Shiba flatly. “You never told him about me.”

Shiba smirked—an expression Shino had been seeing over the last few months—and announced smugly. “You only told me to make sure father was aware of my location, not who I was with.”

Shino cast his mind back, recalling where his son said he was going over the past several months, and was mildly alarmed that Shiba only said he would be at his hide out. Had the woman stumbled upon Shiba’s place and purposefully befriended him?

The woman snorted and ruffled Shiba’s hair fondly. “Cheeky, gaki.”

Shino sighed internally, whatever the original motive was it was clear she had become attached to Shiba and Shiba was thriving. He would have to keep an eye on her.

Deliberately shifting his weight, Shino drew the duo’s attention. “Perhaps we should join the others.”

Shiba agreed eagerly. “Come, I want you to meet my friends.”

The woman laughed and held her ground when Shiba tugged her hand. “Hold you swarm,kid. If you father has a moment, I have something I need to ask.”

Shino nodded, wary of what this would reveal of the woman’s character, and spoke to Shiba. “I will escort your friend to you after we speak Shiba.”

For a moment the adults watched the bo join the small crowd that had gathered to blatantly stare. Subtle his clan could be but they did enjoy testing whoever gathered the ‘courage’ to come into their compound.

“You’ve raised a fine son, Aburame-sama.”

Shino’s gaze slid to take into the scarred woman’s profile. That statement was strangely grateful sounding. Almost as if she were thanking him for his son’s behaviour.

“Thank you, Okami-san.”

The woman turned so she could keep the crowd in sight but still face him. “I wanted you approval before I gave Shiba-kun his gift.”

Shino’s eyes widened as the woman pulled a custom kunai and sebon utility belt from her satchel. The tooling was minimal but done with obvious care, depicting kikaichu at rest or in flight.. The belt was made to last and able to adjust for any inevitable growth. It was a beautiful piece yet not something that Shino thought would need permission to give.

“I don’t know if Shiba-kun uses live steel yet but I have kunai, sebon, and shurikan to go with it. May I give them as a set or would you prefer if I wait until he graduates to give him the weapons?”

_‘Ah, shinobi enough to give a child weapons without qualm but civilian enough to not know when such gifts were age appropriate.’_ he thought and stated, “Gifts will be given after dinner.”

The woman hid her gift away with a nod. “Thank you, Aburame-sama. That was all I wanted.”

Shino led her to where Shiba was playing a fast paced game involving insect trivia. He couldn’t decide if the woman’s comment had been to let him know she had been aware of his wariness of her using his son for favors and mocking him, or merely letting him know she had nothing else to ask.

When they arrived, Shiba was quick to introduce her to his cousins and friends and to monopolize her attention.

Throughout the evening Shino observed the way the woman interacted with his son, and found he wasn’t comfortable with what he found.

Shiba all but voiced his love for the scarred stranger to the clan in the way he allowed and initiated physical contact.

It was a fresh surprise each time the woman failed to shy away in any way from his son.

The few times clansmen approached to speak with her, the expected wariness appeared. Distance was established and wary eyes watched every move. This only occured with adults though. With the children, with whom the stranger spent the majority of her time with, the distance and wariness was cast aside for open interest.

The only time she had flinched from the children was when one jumped on her from where she could see. Shino had prepared to shunshin to run interference but the woman had laughed and playfully wrestled with the boy but excused herself not long after to use the restroom. She disappeared for nearly twenty minutes and returned in the company of Shino’s aunt, Namiko. The woman was pale but not agitated when she rejoined the children.

Namiko settled at a nearby table, allowing Shino to make his way over with a drink.

“Aunt.”

“Shino,” she greeted, accepting the offered drink with a fond smile. “It’s a shame Shiba did not bring Anea-san around sooner.”

That was not quite what he was expecting.

“Is it?” he inquired mildly, twitching his shoulders when Shiba bodily attached himself to the...Anea-san. It would be disrespectful to deny the—Anea-san, her name, even in the privacy of his mind, when a respected elder acknowledged her.

Anea smiled fondly at the curious children and offered assurances that she was fine.

“Yes, I look forward to seeing her in the future, nephew, she has a good mind.”

Shino gave a soft acknowledgement and fell into a companionable silence until dinner was called.

At the table, Shino was unsurprised to see Anea sit with the children but was bothered by it all the same. While his aunt’s interest in Anea was reassuring, the clan head was still disturbed by the closeness his son shared with a woman Shino knew next to nothing about. Fortunately for his curiosity, it seemed the rest of his clan was just as curious about the stranger and were sharing what they knew. The gossip was gossip but it was the start of a picture.

Anea had appeared in public abruptly eight months ago, doing D-ranks of all things. She was not a shinobi but had some sort of defensive training. She bore scars beyond the ones on her jaw. She was a master leather crafter. She suffered from Anxiety and flashbacks.

The information was superficial but everyone who had person interaction with her were cautiously approving.

After the meal, darkness was beginning to fall, the kids clamoured for Shiba to open his gifts.

Through all the opening of presents, Anea sat nearby, no longer smiling but still gazing fondly at Shiba.

When the last gift was opened Anea stood and handed Shiba her satchel.

The shock the birthday boy radiated drew every eye more sharply. For whatever reason Shiba had been perfectly happy not getting anything from his favorite person—why did that hurt Shino’s heart?—and was blatantly surprised.

“Go on Shiba-kun,” Anea encouraged, her voice raspy from overuse.

With a reverence Shino had never seen, Shiba carefully pulled his gift from the bag and laid them out to be seen by all.

The utility belt nearly melted into the wooden table—the colors were so similar—while the kunai, sebon, and shurikan laid opaque and dull in spite of the light cast by the lamps handing nearby.

Shino’s lips tightened as he gaze at the weapons. Those weapons cost at least an A-rank if not half again. What was she playing at.

“Anea-chan.”

Shino’s attention was brought back to the choked out inquiry. Apparently Shiba was as concerned about the price as he was.

The woman knelt beside Shiba and spoke quietly. A gesture made obsolete by the numerous kikaichu littering the area.

“This is the least I can do for you, little one. You have helped me in so many ways and have become so very important to me, Shiba-kun. Your presence in my life is a blessing.” The woman pressed her forehead against his before pulling back with a smile. “Happy birthday, Aburame Shiba.”

The rest of the evening passed quickly and before Shino knew it, the stars were clear in the sky and Anea was saying goodnight. Or trying to—judging by the stubborn stance Shiba had taken it looked like Shino needed to step in.

“—need you to walk me,” Anea was saying dryly. Her eyes met his briefly with a tired smile when he drew near.

Shiba spun around. “Otou-san, may I walk Anea-chan home?”

Shino suppressed the smile his son’s not-quite-a-pout evoked. It really was amusing how clingy the child was.

“You’ve been up late enough, Shiba; I will see Okami-san home.”

The boy deflated.

Anea huffed and carded her fingers through Shiba’s hair, a faint smile accenting exhausted eyes.

“You’ve got the Academy in the morning, kiddo, and will be tired enough without staying up longer But,” she continued before Shiba could protest, “you may send one of your companions so you know I make it home.”

Shino’s impression of the woman improved as she easily accepted the beetle that attached itself to her leppel and silently laughed along with his son when Anea admonished the beetle to stay away from her ears.

His hive went silent when his amusement turned to surprise when the woman rolled her eyes and caused his son to laugh out loud at her: “yeah, yeah, laugh it up you two.”

It had taken his genin team years to interpret his hives’ reactions. Exactly how much time did his son spent with this woman?

“Goodnight Anea-chan. I’m glad you came.”

The woman knelt and tugged his boy into a hug. “Anything for you, little one.” She pulled away and straightened Shiba’s collar. “I will see you tomorrow. Happy birthday.”

Shino reached out and rested his hand on Shiba’s head, smiling when he looked up at him. “Goodnight, I will see you when I get back.”

Once the boy was gone, Shino silently ushered the woman out of the compound.

“I don’t live far, Aburame-sama. If you prefer you could send a kikaichu in you stead,” Anea stated, energy all but gone now that they were alone.

Shino blinked at the sudden change and was mildly alarmed by the tremors he sense more than saw in her posture.

“Do you need a medic?” It was a courtesy question, because it was acutely obvious she was not well.

The woman shrugged wearily. “I’ll be okay, Aburame-sama. I live on the five acre down the road; if you or your clansmen want to cut through it for any reason, you may. I just ask that you keep visits to when the sun is above the horizon.”

Shino frowned, vaguely recalling being told someone had bought the old shack next door but had dismissed it when he learned it was merely a reclusive civilian.

“I’ll see you to the property line,” he compromised.

* * *

 

Anea closed her eyes. _‘Relax Wolf. You can make it a tenth of a mile without falling apart.’_

Opening her eyes she nodded to Shiba’s father and started toward her shack, her home.

The evening had gone better than she had expected. Aside from the one stance she had needed to excuse herself to regain her scattered wit, she had managed to keep Shiba ignorant of her anxiety. Keeping away from the men had helped. It was the fact she couldn’t see most of their faces that had forced her to avoid them as much as she could. Without facial features to ground herself, her mind overlaid them with that of her captors and her nightmares.

Tonight had been an exercise in differentiating reality from the specters of nightmares that she was on the verge of failing.

Fortunately, Shiba’s father had his hood down and his collar wasn’t too tall. His shades were streamline and didn’t cover most of his face like some Aburame’s did.

But the darkness was preying on her frayed mind, playing to her paranoia and giving form to her fears in the corner of her eye.

“You love my son.”

Anea blinked, chasing demons from her vision and sluggishly trying to understand the words spoke.

“I do,” she rasped. Grimacing at the feel of sand paper in mouth and rolled her tongue against her teeth in a vain attempt to bring moisture back.

She was going to be in for hell tonight.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence.

Anea knew she was missing a prime time to get to know Shiba’s father, but she was so far passed her limit she was vaguely amazed she hadn’t fallen apart already.

“Goodnight, Okami-san.”

Anea murmured a reply, she wasn’t sure what she said, and staggered to her shack where she promptly collapsed on her bed.

And her hell began.

* * *

 

“Okami-san?”

Anea looked up from the axe she was sharpening. “Aburame-sama,” she greeted in surprise.

Since Shiba’s party, and her invitation, two months ago it wasn’t unusual for an Aburame to cross her land or stop by her booth during market day, but this was the first time she had seen the clan head since that night.

“How may I help you?” she inquired, setting her tools aside so she could stand. A look of alarm crossed her face when a reason for the man’t presence occurred to her. “I Shiba okay?” she asked urgently.

The Aburame shift his weight to his heels, a subtle movement that was the equivalent of a person stepping back. A faint puckering occured around his mouth before smoothing back to neutrality and his weight recentered. “Yes.”

Anea exhaled slowly, her pulse slowing, and her body bleeding off tension. “Ah, good,” she sighed, wiping sweat from her temple.

Glancing at the sweat now on her hand she felt something bitter and disgusting coat her chest. She needed help. Obsessing over a child was _not_ okay.

She wiped her palm on a pair of patched pants and looked back at her guest.

“My clansmen noticed a patch of flowers our more poisonous insects favor. Wouldn’t you be open to us making use of them?” Shiba’s father asked after an awkward pause.

Anea allowed her discomfort to leave, she had been almost certain the Aburame was going to say something about her attachment to his son.

“I am. Will you transplant the plants or bring the insects to the plants?”

The Aburame stilled in vague surprise, his hive chirping quietly. “The plants are delicate. It would be better to bring the insects to them.”

Rare plants usually didn’t do well with transplants, Anea knew. One of her targets had been a botany specialist.

“In exchange, I’d like someone to check the pond on the east end of my property for wasp nest and move them when found.”

It was a cheap price in comparison to the service rendered but she wasn’t interested in using Shiba’s clan any more than she was.

“Agreed. I will send a written agreement this afternoon,” the Aburame stated after a moment of staring—probably waiting for additional demands.

“You’re work is very good.”

Anea blinked at the left field comment. “Sir?”

The Aburame tilted his head toward a deerskin she had stretched out for tracing moccasin patterns. “Your leather work,” he clarified, “many clansmen wear your moccasins.”

Pride put a smile on her face. “Thank you Aburame-sama. Please tell your clansmen I will repair or reimburse them if any of the moccasins’ seams come undone. I’m afraid my earlier wares weren’t very good. I was still learning to sew even stitches,” she urged, her smile turning self-deprecating toward the end.

For larger works she had used a sewing machine, but that kind of equipment wasn’t available to her.

“Do you take commissions?”

Anea pursed her lips. She hadn’t thought of that—mostly because she hadn’t expected her work to be such a hit. “I haven’t thought about it. I can offer you a quote when I receive the agreement this afternoon. What did you have in mind?”

Any extra income was welcome. The bank had let her know if she managed to pay half her debt in two years, they would forgive the other half.

“The utility belt you made for my son. Several shinobi of my clan are interested in having similar items.”

Anea crossed her arms, one hand bracing an elbow while the other rested lightly at her lower ribs, and stared unseeingly at her client’s chest.

Shiba’s harness had taken her several weeks due to not being able to work on it because Shiba was there daily. She would need to find a supplier to get more cowhide. What she had used for Shiba, she had traded from a deer for from a butcher. She said as much.

“Will providing the hide significantly reduce the price?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed. “Especially if it come pretreated—then I would only charge for my time and thread.”

They discussed specifics of what she needed in leather type, and haggled method of payment.

Anea planned on sitting down and writing out the cost and what not but she was more interested in an exchange of service over monetary gain. There were numerous projects around her land that she could not do simply because she lack the finances. If the Aburame weren’t opposed then she would gladly take the service over ryo.

Half an hour later, Anea watched the man leave. They would meet again in a couple of days to finalize their agreements.

Aburame Shino made her uneasy. The other clansmen she had met had quiet assurance wrapped about them like a cloak, their curiosity only showing through like a shy child looking out from under their mothers’ skirts. The clan head—the Kan—was blatant in his curiosity. His hive all but announced it to her.

Heaving a sigh, she returned to sharpening her axe. The Kan had every right to his wariness, it was his son—not his clans’—that had attached himself to her.

 

It was nearing the time Shiba arrived from the Academy when another Aburame approached her.

“Aburame-san,” Anea greeted wryly. “You seem to be unfortunate enough to cat me in another unpleasant position.”

The older woman’s soft laugh joined the buzz of her hive. “I do have that talent, Okami-san.”

Anea glanced down at her bare foot. She had misjudged her footing atop a tree she had been delimbing and had slipped, opening a grash from her ankle bone to the middle of her shin. She had managed to cut the pant leg off above the knee but hadn’t gotten around to cleaning the wound.

“May I assist? I have some iryo training,” the Aburame inquired from where she had stopped.

Anea appreciated the distance. A civilian would have rushed at her.

“I’m afraid Chakra doesn’t work, Aburame-san. Are familiar with civilian first aid?” Anea inquired, carefully shifting her wounded leg from its position on her opposite knee.

The Aburame secured her sleeves away from her forearms with straps hidden in her sleeves that connected to a button on her shoulders as she approached. “Familiar enough to tend to that,” she stipulated.

Anea forced herself to relax while gentle hands positioned her leg to be examined. The woman’s hands were callused from finger tip to the base of her palm. Anea wondered what the other did to manage that—she knew plenty of men with similar calluses but Anea could not recall ever meeting a woman with hands like this Aburame.

“Aside from coming to my rescue,” Anea began, a teasing smile pulling at her lips, “what brings you here, Aburame-san?”

This woman had found her in the bathroom vomiting from anxiety and had coaxed her back into a more stable mind set. Anea didn’t recall anything the woman had said but the memory of soothing tones and a solid presence stayed with her. The woman had escourted her back to the children when Anea would not have blamed her for sending her out of the compound.

A flurry of insects left the woman’s collar as she tested the heat around the wound. “Shino-sama needed a contract delivered to you, and I wanted to see how you were fairing.”

Anea hummed as she watched the small swarm of insects pick up a bucket and disappear toward her pond. “Why wait so long?”

Not that it bothered her much, she was still recovering from the party. Two months was a long time to still be fragile but Anea didn’t have a means of recovering in a healthy fashion. Journaling didn’t help and she didn’t dare talk out loud. Too much of a risk of someone hearing.

“I am an observer, Okami-san—you would not have appreciated my visit before now,” the woman admitted easily.

“Anea, is fine, Aburame-san,” Anea offered distractedly. The swarm was returning with a bucket full of water, only they were in a vaguely humanoid shape. It was crazy what this world had to offer.

Since being released from the hospital she hadn’t seen too much in the way of chakra use. Shiba talked about how it was used but didn’t demonstrate, mostly at her request since she didn’t want to accidentally hurt the boy. She did not want to find out at his expense that she had a trigger to jutsu.

“Namiko-oba, then Anea-san. Do you have any pain killer?”

ANea snorted. “No.” She had enough trouble with knives at her disposal, she did not need the temptation of self medicating. As it was, it was not uncommon for her to tease herself by tracing her wrists with the tip of one of her carving knives. She couldn’t decide if she was a masochist for not ending it all or if she cared more about Shiba than she was admitting to herself.

“I’ll be quick then.”

Anea watched as Namiko washed the blood from the wound and set about making a salve from nearby herbs Anea hadn’t known were medicinal.

By the time water was boiling and the salve was ready, Shiba had arrived.

“What happened?”

Anea smiled at the calm inquiry. The boy had stopped himself from rushing to her when he saw the open wound and had taken the time to read the mood. His calm tone showed that he understood the situation wasn’t urgent.

“I slipped while delimbing a tree and caught myself on a stub,” Anea explained after flashing him a smile of greeting.

Shiba accepted that and greeted Namiko. “Hello, Oba-san.”

Namiko settled before Anea with the salve. “Hello Shiba-kun. How was the Academy?”

Anea twitched once at the chill of the salve and tried not to move further as Namiko carefully slathered the wound.

“Uneventful; what brings you here oba-san?” Shiba inquired, settling in seiza to watch his relative work.

Anea hid a smil behind scratching her nose, Shiba took every opportunity he could to learn something new.

“Delivering a contract to Anea-san. Shino-sama mentioned something about a trade of services.”

Anea nodded, as the last sentence was directed at her.

“Hai, Clan Aburame is permitted to make use of certain plants poisonous insects enjoy in exchange for keeping wasps away from my home and water source.”

Shiba grumbled. “I would have taken care of that if you asked, Anea-chan.”

Anea smirked at the boy. “I know you would, but I’m not going to ask more than what you already do.”

The boy’s hive murmured in agitation, earning him a glance from Namiko. Anea wasn’t sure what passed between the two Aburame’s but whatever it was made Shiba embarrassed.

“Thank you for you help Namiko-san—would you care to stay for lunch?”


End file.
